


The Pharaoh's Guardian

by allmagiccomeswithrice (bisaleth)



Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: AUs, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4459514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisaleth/pseuds/allmagiccomeswithrice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple of short oneshots surrounding Ahkmenrah and Larry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Pain.  So much, it was death.  Not the kind of death he felt every day when his body would cease to move, but instead the death of feeling his body deteriorate while he's still alive inside of it.  It was unbearable.

 _"Larry."_ Ahkmenrah stared up at his savior in horror, his face becoming that of one who had already passed through the gates of the underworld.   _"We've run out of time."_

That was it.  He couldn't allow it to end like this, no matter what.  He just had to get to him before the death overtook him completely.  The Pharaoh began to haltingly move toward the night guard, reaching his hand out for him, but the man had already turned away to focus his attention on Lancelot and shout at him as though it would do any good.

"Listen to me, you gotta straighten the pieces.  Straighten the pieces right now or they're all gonna die!  You too! So, just, hand it over and...and-"  His weak attempts to convince the stubborn knight were interrupted by Ahkmenrah grabbing on to his shoulder and using him for support to continue standing.  Larry turned to see his face and suddenly it became difficult to breathe.  It wasn't just the corruption of decay the broke him, but the expression of hopelessness.  He'd given up.

 _"There's no point."_  Ahkmenrah spoke, his voice choked.

"What?  No.  No.  I'm gonna get you outta this.  You're gonna be fi-" Larry tried to reassure him, but he knew it was empty.  The tablet was gone.  At some point during their exchange, Lancelot made a run for it, hoping to find the true Camelot, one that was perhaps in a book that had hopefully come to life.  He'd taken the tablet with him.  No one was left to go after him.

 _"T-There was something I wanted to tell you."_  Larry grasped at Ahkmenrah in support as the young Pharaoh fell to his knees, weak.  No more of this.  He couldn't take losing another person he cared about because of how that stupid tablet worked.  He couldn't start seeing Ahkmenrah in every person who passed him by.  It would be too painful, so he tried his best not to think about it.

"You're not gonna say goodbye yet, Ahk."  He made to get up, but Ahkmenrah held on, just for a moment.  Even with his weakened grip, it was enough to let Larry know that he had something to say.

_"But if it doesn't work.  I wanted to give you my thanks."_

"You've already thanked me for freeing you, you don't need to-"

_"Not for that.  Larry, I..."_

His body became dead weight underneath Larry's arms.  He couldn't finish.  He never got to finish.

"Ahk?  ....Ahk...?"  He asked for him, waited for him to respond, to just say something, anything.

Nothing.

He was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: It felt unfinished, so I added more to this chapter.

A horde of butterflies, hitting at the walls of his chest in the fear of losing everyone made itself known as Larry tried to keep it together. "Yeah, but if you- if you guys go, then-"  Larry shook his head, unwilling to accept the idea.  "...you won't be alive after tonight.  I'm-I'm supposed to take care of you guys."  There was hardly any air leaving his lugs when he spoke, his voice shook, but he held strong.  No matter how he felt about it, he wouldn't allow himself to cry, especially not in front of them all.  He stole a glance at Ahkmenrah, who was conversing with his parents.  He'd have to leave him behind?  Never see him again?  See him on rare visits?  No.  This- he could not accept this.  He wouldn't.

"It's okay, Lawrence.  We're ready."  No, they couldn't be ready.  Not yet.  They couldn't, not when he still had so much to do, to say to all of them.

"But..."  He shook his head once more, unable to look anyone in the eye at this point.  If he did, he wouldn't be able to keep himself sane.  "...I'm not."

Why don't they know?  Don't they understand that they can't just end things out of nowhere like this?  That isn't how it worked.  They shouldn't even be considering something like this.  Leave Ahkmenrah and the tablet?  Become nothing but wax figures?  Lose their bizarre, dysfunctional family by separating us?

"Let us go." 

Nick nodded along.  They were right, Ahkmenrah needed to be with his family.  He wants to be there, England, not with him and the others in New York.  The family of wax figures, stones, and dinosaur bones that had been made up was...it was just in his mind.  It wasn't real.  Ahkmenrah deserved to be with those he wanted to be with.  One more glance at the young Pharaoh told him that he couldn't do it.  He couldn't say goodbye to him.

So, instead, they left.  Larry returned to the Museum of Natural History, without saying goodbye.  Some of the others may have said goodbye to Ahkmenrah, even tried to convince him to say something to him before they left, but they did not understand how hard it would have been.

It was only when he walked into Ahkmenrah's tomb exhibit that he realized just how much he regretted not saying anything.  Ahkmenrah deserved a proper goodbye and he'd just been so afraid of what he might do or say to him that he'd somehow forgotten about how painful it would be to say nothing.  It feels wrong, to be in his tomb when he was so far away.

He left the young Pharaoh where he belongs, where he wants to be, with the people he wants to be with.  Larry continued to tell himself that, but no matter how much he mentally repeated it, nothing would get any better.  Everyone would be forever stuck in wax by the morning and there was nothing to be done about it.  He wasn't used to having nothing to do.  There was always...

* * *

 There was no goodbye.

He wasn't even warned that they would be leaving to New York without him.  Did he have no say in his fate?  Perhaps it was that they didn't want him anymore, he was no longer useful.  They found his parents and just left him there like he'd been nothing but a lost kid all along, rather than a fully grown Pharaoh, capable of making his own decisions about his life, or afterlife, in this case.

He felt ignored and trapped.  They didn't give him an option, and not even so much as a warning.  He hated it.  He loathed it with every fiber of his being.  How dare they?

What was the most frustrating about it all was that he couldn't bring himself to hold it against the night guard.  The man had been the one to not only save him on multiple occasions, but also to reunite him with his family.  Larry would come back, for sure.  

At least, Ahkmenrah said as much when his mother inquired about what was bothering him.  All she had to say about it was that he was indeed the Pharaoh, and that he needed to take charge of his own destiny.

And so he did.  He refused to be caged again.  He loved his parents, truly, being reunited with them was incredible.  

But he had unfinished business with the night guard.

It didn't take long to make the decision to go after him.  When he arrived, Theodore pointed him to the tomb exhibit Ahkmenrah had been kept in.

Marching up through the small hallway and see Larry's back to him, he was ready to demand answers for the abrupt departure of the man when he heard him speak.  He surely must've known he was there, and Ahkmenrah froze in his tracks, listening to what he had to say.

"Hey, listen-...um.  Up there, on the roof, when, uh- when you almost..."  Without finishing his sentence, he nodded, looking up at the wall that the tablet had been kept, sighing.  "You know." Ahkmenrah waited, wanting to hear what the man had to say.  

"Yeah, I just wanted to let you know it really...changed my perspective on everything.  I know I took you for granted.  Not just you, but-  everyone.  I feel like there's always been a sort of mutual respect for each other, and I- I guess I didn't really show that to you.  I should've said goodbye.  At least..."  The man stared down at Ahkmenrah's casket, letting out a shaky breath.  "I'll miss you.  I kind of already...well. I just- I know that if we tried to say goodbye, there would've been this tension between us and-"

That was sufficient, Ahkmenrah had heard quite enough of Larry's babbling, so he interrupted whatever it was that he was about to say.   _".-Therefore, leaving me behind without a word of warning was better?"_

Larry turned around, startled.  He'd been talking to the wall, imagining Ahkmenrah for the sake of closure- he hadn't realized that the Pharaoh himself had approached during his speech.  "You-  how did you...but, why?"  He stared in wonder, unsure if he was glad or not that Ahkmenrah had heard him.

_"I was going to ask you the same thing.  Leaving me in England with my parents?  Really?  I love them, and I thank you for reuniting me with them, truly, but they can be quite overbearing.  That aside, you really ought to be punished for betraying me like that.  Going behind my back?"_ The Pharaoh took a few steps closer to his savior, who responded by wincing.   _"Your blood will become a river as you scream out in agony, begging forgiveness for your insolence!"_

By this point, Larry was cornered and backed up against the casket, with a furious and righteous looking Pharaoh practically on him.   _"Too dark?"_ Ahkmenrah asked, but didn't back off.   _"How about this, instead?"_ With that, he leaned in, carefully placing a kiss on the night guard's lips, his hand on the man's chest.

When they parted, Larry allowed himself a small smile.  "That works- that's uh.  A lot better than-  I mean- that was."  He was able to speak better once Ahkmenrah took a step back, allowing him some space to think.

"I guess that's been there for a long time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shhh....don't question how Ahkmenrah managed to get all the way to New York with the tablet on his own. Maaaagic


	3. Pushing Daisies AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly just weird cuteness, weird flirting, and weird basically everything. That's what happens when you make a Pushing Daisies AU.

At this very moment in the city of New York, New York, young Larry was 9 years, 27 weeks, 6 days, and 3 minutes old.  He ran excitedly toward the edge of Central Park, holding a small paper in his hand with the sketch for an invention on it that, being made entirely out of popsicle sticks, would never quite function the way he imagined.

The pet monkey who rested on his shoulder, Dexter, was 3 years, 2 weeks, 4 days, and 5 hours old.

And not a minute older.

As they sped toward the crosswalk, Dexter unexpectedly jumped off his shoulder and onto the pavement, getting hit by a reckless driver who payed no attention to what he'd done aside from shouting some rude comment out the widow as he continued on his way.

Dexter was left, thrown back to the sidewalk from the impact, dead.  Upset and startled, hoping beyond reality that Dex would just so happen to survive the brutal hit, Larry knelt and reached out for his furry companion, the realization of his death dawning on him.  His finger lightly touched the Capuchin's fur, and with that, Dexter immediately hopped up and began to run towards their home, as though nothing had been wrong.

It was at this very moment that Larry realized he wasn't like the other children, nor was he like anyone else, for that matter.  Young Larry could touch dead things and bring them back to life.

When Larry ran toward his home and jumped into his bed that night, he had no idea that back in Central Park, a squirrel had -suddenly and without explainable cause- died and gone stiff.  He knew nothing of the consequences his discovery brought.

This touch was a gift, given to him- but not by anyone in particular.  There was no box it came in, no instructions on how to use, no manufacturer's warranty, and no warning label.  It just was.  The terms of use weren't immediately clear, nor were they of immediate concern to the boy.

Young Larry was thrilled to have this gift.  There were many fun ideas that ran through his mind at the thought that he could bring the dead back to life.  One such thought brought him to the Museum of Natural History that his father had showed him through only a few days prior.  He'd been enthralled by the mysterious ancient Egypt exhibit, primarily because so little was actually known about the Pharaoh whose body resided in the casket.  He couldn't help his curiosity about how different this Pharaoh's way of living must have been, comparatively to his own.

Unfortunately, the opportunity to open up the ancient casket to touch the mummy inside was not as forthcoming as he'd hoped.  His beginning attempts at reaching him had ended him in more trouble than he'd even been in before.

But that didn't stop his will.  The challenge of getting to that Pharaoh and bringing him back to life became increasingly interesting as time went on for the boy, until it had grown to the point of obsession.

It became more difficult, however, once he discovered -through experimentation involving insects on the second day upon realization he had such a gift- that this gift not only gave, but took.  He could only bring something back for twelve hours before there were consequences.  Any longer and something else had to die.  Another experiment led to a very important discovery:

First touch; life.  Second touch; dead, for good.

Despite this, Larry didn't give up on his quest to return Pharaoh Ahkmenrah to life.  He decided that once he got to him, he would simply give him the second touch before the time ran out, and no one else would have to die in the man's place.  Easy as pie.  Well, pie that was potentially life-threatening to anyone near it.

As he grew older though, he began to think he would never accomplish his goals.  He would never become an inventor and he would never wake the Pharaoh from the dead.  This was the conclusion that he was coming to once his divorce went through, his inventions never got big, and his son started to look down on him for not ever having a stable job.

Still, in one last attempt at achieving his dreams, he applied to work at the museum.

He got in.  There had never been an opening before, but now there was, and it was perfect.  Due to lay offs, he was the only night guard, and now was his time.  This was his moment.

Larry Daley- 42 years, 8 weeks, 2 days, and 45 minutes old - was finally about to meet the mysterious Pharaoh he'd imagined for so long.  It was time.  He opened up the casket and stared down that the mummy inside.  This was a big moment in his life, where should he touch him?  The hand, no, too informal.  The cheek?

The cheek.  Hesitantly, he reached out to the soon-to-be-living Pharaoh, lightly touching him on the cheek.

The burst of power threw him back, landing Larry next to the ornate tablet hanging on the east side of the room as the mummy rose from his casket.  At this point, Larry was beginning to consider that perhaps this was not one of his greater ideas.  The man had seen enough of 'The Mummy' films to know that it was a bad idea to wake the ancient, dead, and holy.  Still, despite having his own supernatural power of a sort, he didn't believe in the supernatural.  Outside the range of his own experiences, of course.

The mummy screamed out before reaching for his head bandages.  This was it, he was gonna tear it off and be horribly disfigured and terrifying, Larry prepared himself for the worst, most grotesque sight.

Ahkmenrah removed the coverings and let out a breath of ancient dust.  He was...human looking.  Not some crazy creepy skeleton or anything, just a person.  A very good looking one, at that.   _"You will not believe how tight these bandages are."_

Looking him up and down, Larry really could indeed believe how tight the bandages were.  Not that he'd say that out loud. "Your clothes are in the display case."

* * *

 The facts were these.

Akhmenrah, 4th King of the 4th King, ruler of the land of his fathers, was the favorite son of the Pharaoh and his Queen, which caused a rift between himself and his brother Kahmunrah.  Sick with a minor, yet unidentified illness and placing more trust in his brother than he reasonably should have, Ahkmenrah accepted a drink that was to be his cure, coming from none other than his brother, Kahmunrah.

Needless to say, it was not his most wise decision.  Panicked and struggling to breathe, he spoke his final words to his parents just before he passed.   _"Don't trust Kahmunrah."_

In an ironic twist of fate and unbeknownst to him, his words had been misheard, the sounds lost in airy breaths.  Instead, his parents had only heard _"Trust Kahmunrah."_ and swiftly decided to make his brother the new King to replace him.

All in all, he'd only ruled for but a single year of his life before his assassination.

* * *

 "Hey, no offense, but, why'd you trust your brother if you knew he was bad news?"  Larry followed Ahkmenrah into the largest, most well-lit room of the museum, unsure of why Ahk felt the need to wander.  Then again, he has been dead for 4,000 years.  His legs could just need stretching.

 _"I wanted to believe he wasn't."_ Ahkmenrah spoke somewhat impatiently.   _"Look, Larry, Guardian of Brooklyn, you have my eternal gratitude for bringing me back to life, even for just a short time, but you say I have only a few hours left to live.  Rather than waste it on remembering my death, I'd rather like to waste it on actually living."_

Larry nodded. "Fair enough, but you're not allowed to leave the museum.  Or my sight.  I need to be sure I can touch you when I need to."

 _"There's no need for concern, I am not one to shy away from touch, especially when the attention comes from one such as yourself."_ Ahk stared Larry down, watching his reaction.  Sure, he knew they'd never get far, all things considered, but it was his last few hours alive, so he really couldn't care less.  Plus, it was immensely enjoyable to watch Larry get flustered.  So far, he genuinely liked the man who'd pulled him from death's clutches.

It would be hard not to.


	4. Dust in the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Attempted suicide and self harm in this oneshot.  
> Ahkmenrah spirals and Larry tries to help. Takes place in canonverse after the final movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll come back to edit this later, when I'm not being lazy. Until then, I hope the mistakes don't make it unreadable.

Larry hasn't visited.

When Ahkmenrah returned temporarily to New York, he thought certainly he would get to see him, that surely he would then be able to give him the news that he didn't want to be stuck in England with his parents.  Larry, to Ahk, was...a light in the seemingly endless dark of his chaotic and confusing world.

Without his light, Ahk wasn't doing well.  No one could tell, of course.  The boy Pharaoh wasn't about to show that kind of weakness in front of people like his father and Lancelot.

Despite the fact that he'd been the one to cause it, the lack of understanding from the only people he'd been able to interact with in thousands of years really took it's toll.  He'd begun to feel invisible, and despite his parent's attentions, unwanted.  He continuously fought with himself over it, thinking it ridiculous to be feeling ignored when really his parents gave him plenty attention.  Why was he feeling this way?  Could he ever make it stop?

It began on the third night upon arriving at New York.  A particularly rough tangle with Rexy gave him a small cut on the cheek.  As painful as the little slice had been, it served to keep him grounded in the present for the first time in a long while.  Getting trapped in the past seemed to be his lot, regardless of how far into the future he would make it because of the tablet.  Having to return every morning to his casket gave him nothing to do but feel it as the life drained out of him and scream in horror when he awoke the following night at having awoken in the dark, cramped space that he'd come to know far better than he appreciated.

That small burst of pain almost could be described as pleasant, after Ahkmenrah got used to it. Well, not really.  It was more similar to a distraction from the more terrible things in his mind, a choice of the pain you know how to deal with over the pain you don't.  Knowing it was a bad thing to be doing to himself, he nearly sought out help more than once, but every time he was stopped by the weight of his fear that he would discover that the night guard of New York was not to return during his stay.

Ahk was completely unaware that his guardian was just outside the museum, having his own inner debate.

For Larry, it seemed to him that saying hello to Ahk, only to have to say goodbye again in another week would be too painful.  He cared deeply for the young Pharaoh, and yet no matter how much he tried, his feelings refused to make themselves known to the object of his affection.  He'd been so used to keeping everything inside for this or that reason, that he no longer remembered how to express himself and properly say how he felt.

Upon Ahkmenrah's arrival in New York, Larry had been visiting every night and watching over everyone from a distance.  He thought that perhaps this would be for the best of everyone.

He was wrong, in a catastrophic way.

The night before Ahk's exhibit was to be moved back to England was when Larry could physically feel the cold twist of devastation in his chest.  It was nearly sunrise, and Ahkmenrah was on the roof.  How did he get up there?  Why was he there?  He knew how dangerous it would be to be out of doors at this time.  He knew.

He knew, so why was he there?

Rather than ponder over the why, Larry made a dash through the museum, hoping to get to the roof and bring Ahk back in before it was too late.  He hadn't told him yet.  He hadn't even talked with him since the half-assed goodbye they gave in England.  It wasn't going to end like this, they'd been through far too much together.

Ahkmenrah turned around from his position on the edge of the building, too many emotions to understand crossing his face when he saw Larry burst through the door to the roof.

"Ahk, don't you know how dangerous this is?  Come inside, hurry!"  Larry spoke as he frantically ran to Ahk's side, reaching out to him until he realized that Ahk was backing away from him and closer to the edge.  He was gonna fall off if he didn't pull him back.

...But if he made any sudden movement, Ahk could jolt and tumble down the side of the museum.

Why was he doing this?  "Whatever you're thinking, it's bad.  Just don't go there, okay?  Look, the sun is about to rise, let's get you inside before..."

Ahkmenrah had it.   _"It doesn't matter.  As you've spoken so eloquently, whatever I think is bad.  I've lived for thousands of years.  Thousands.  You cannot even begin to comprehend how much longer than that it felt when I was waiting in the darkness, sitting there like the dead but without the opportunity to enter the afterlife.  The price for my supposed immortality is that even in dreams, I am not permitted in the other worlds.  My gods have left me, Larry.  They've abandoned me."_

"But you still have us-"

Ahkmenrah hesitated.  He'd wanted to hear that he still had him, and he got it, but the horrible feeling in his stomach was stubborn. _"You?  The 'Guardian of Brooklyn' who has ceased to guard and no longer lives in Brooklyn?  One who, even when I finally arrive, cannot even bring himself to show his face to me?"_ Ahk couldn't bare to see Larry's agonized face any longer, so he turned away to peer into the distance.

 _"Kah was right.  I was never ready to rule.  I cannot even rule myself.  You all are better off without me, I can see that clearly now."_ Putting one foot forward into the air, Ahk prepared himself for the fall, closing his eyes.

Just in time to catch him, Larry dashed forth and held on to his chest, pulling him back from the edge with the sheer weight of his embrace.  "Not tonight.  You're not doing that- I-I can't watch you do that. Ahk, I-"  Larry squeezed Ahk's chest as he took a few more steps away from the ridge just for good measure, his breathing erratic, tears welling up in his eyes.  Ahk was wrong, he was completely wrong.  He had to tell him.

"I- I lo-" He barely managed to begin to stutter out the words, but he couldn't finish when he felt Ahkmenrah losing his form.  Staring in horror and panic, Larry could do nothing but grasp at dust in the morning wind, falling to his knees at the dirty pile that once was the great king Ahkmenrah.


End file.
